What Was It Like In A.D. 65?

I wonder what it was like in Jerusalem in A.D. 65. Approximately 30 years earlier the wandering Rabbi Jesus of Nazareth had prophesied that one day the walls of the Temple would be torn down. Thirty years is a long time for most memories. Besides, the world in 65 was a lot different than it was in 30.

I just wonder – what was it like? We all know what it must have looked like beginning in 66. The Roman legions started marching, the war machinery started building up – those who had any common political sense knew then that the gig was up. Hilltops like Masada started looking a lot more attractive for a lot of people. But what must it have been like for the common ordinary citizen – the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker?

Were there a lot of messiahs running around – demagogues with perfectly coifed hair spouting off about the “fake news” of the Roman threat? Were the papers full of stories about leading Temple administrators being involved in sexual misconduct cases? Were the talk shows saturated with accusations and counter-accusations of the local gymnastic games being rigged by the Greek Games Commissioner?

I just wonder if the average Joseph sitting down with his morning paper had any inkling of what was just over the horizon. Looking back through the lens of almost 2,000 years of history it seems like it had to have been crystal clear what was about to take place. Occupying forces simply do not like perpetual unrest, rebellion. They want peace – or, maybe not so much peace, but the absolute absence of armed resistance.

I wonder also about the faithful Jew become Christian – the follower of the wandering Rabbi. He (and she) knew of the prophecy, but so much time had passed. Babies had been born, children had been raised, parents had been buried. The walls were still standing. In 65 the Romans might have been close (they were always close), but the tanks and artillery pieces were still not in position. Yet. Did they know? Could they see? Jesus had spoken. They believed. But in 65, did they really know?

One of the key words in the latter portions of the gospel accounts is watch. Jesus said the end is coming, be alert. Watch. He even gave some pretty good hints as to when the Temple would be destroyed. He did not give a time-line, but enough information so that it would not catch the faithful by complete surprise. The rooster always crows a little before dawn.

I just wonder today as I see the world seemingly coming unraveled at the seams – what is just over the horizon? Is 2018 the same as 65? Did not Jesus tell his faithful that, while it might be a while, the end was surely coming? There were many who heard, and remembered, and stayed alert and watched. I think they were ready in 65. I don’t think everyone was beguiled by the perfectly coifed demagogue spouting off about fake news. I don’t think everyone was distracted by all the sordid stories of back-room dalliances and athletic field conspiracies.

Just thinking out loud here, but what was it like in Jerusalem in A.D. 65?

N. T. Wright – An Author Every Minister Needs to Read

Nicholas Tom (N.T.) Wright is one of those authors that everyone has been influenced by, whether they have read him or not. This is because those who have read him either agree with him completely and spread his teachings far and wide; or they disagree with him, imagine him to be the anti-christ with horns on his head and a pointy tail behind him, and therefore caricature what he has written, and spread that caricature far and wide. What makes him so controversial is that he is a retired Anglican bishop who holds many conclusions that are strikingly opposite to that of the majority of members of the Anglican, and especially the American Episcopal, church. [I might add as a snarky aside, that because that number is dwindling so quickly, it really should not matter.] I obviously believe both positions to be false, but I also believe N.T. Wright is an author that every minister, and every concerned church member, should read. Let me explain why.

I read theological books for two reasons. One, I like to read books written by authors who hold positions similar to mine, but who are more advanced in some areas that I am not familiar with, for the purpose of comfort and reassurance. It is just nice to curl up with a nice cup of tea and read a book and not have to parse out every phrase and paragraph to decide whether I agree with the author or not.

Second, I read authors who hold views differing from mine (in varying degrees) because I want to learn. It is an axiom of mine that you simply cannot learn anything from a teacher with whom you agree 100%. For one example – in regard to the book of Revelation I hold an a-millennial position – neither pre-millennial nor post-millennial. I simply cannot learn anything by reading the arguments of other a-millennials. I can be encouraged by them, or reassured by them – but I cannot say that they teach me anything. Same with the subject of baptism. I have eight books on the subject of baptism in my library – and while some present the subject of believer’s baptism in ways I have not fully considered, they really teach me nothing of which I have not already been convinced. If I want to learn something about infant baptism, for example, I have to go to someone who holds that position. Same with virtually every subject in my library.

Which brings me back to N.T. Wright. I was basically ignorant of Wright’s writings up until a couple of years ago, and then it seemed like everywhere I turned there was someone referencing Wright’s work, either in fawning praise or scathing rebuke. I decided to see what all the fuss was about so I bought one of his books, Surprised by Hope. I quickly understood what all the fuss was about. I recently added one other book, The Resurrection of the Son of God. I have not been disappointed with either purchase.

The most important thing I learned about Wright is that he is a scholar – a preeminent scholar. Reading his book on the resurrection of Jesus I was blown away with the depth of scholarship involving pagan and second temple Judaism views on the afterlife. That book has profoundly questioned my previous understanding of how we view our life after death – and while I may not agree with every point Wright makes, I cannot simply dismiss him because he actually presents solid evidence, and not just pious suppositions, for his conclusions.

Reading Wright first-hand has allowed me to draw some conclusions about his opponents. I have come to realize that people dislike or reject Wright for the following reasons:

  1. They have not read his books first-hand, and are simply parroting other criticisms. This I find to be the most ridiculous and childish of responses. In what is both a marvelous example of irony and a pathetic display of theological illiteracy, I saw someone attack Wright by approvingly quote John Piper – one of the most hard-core Calvinists to ever write a book. I know this particular opponent of Wright would reject every aspect of Calvin’s (and therefore, Piper’s) teaching, and yet, there he was, gleefully parroting Piper’s rejection of Wright, just because it was someone who disagreed with Wright. I guess the enemy of my enemy is my friend – at least if my enemy is N.T. Wright.
  2. They are intensely jealous of his scholarship and his popularity. This is especially true of a petulant group of theological Lilliputians who simply cannot stand the thought that some people can actually think on their own, and who admire Wright, even while disagreeing with him on some significant issues.
  3. They simply do not understand him. I find Wright to be very easy to read, but I have about 14 years of theological education behind me. Some might be put off by Wright’s scholarship and the depth of his learning. I’m sure some of his books are written for a more “popular” audience, but there is nothing in the two books I have that cannot be understood if you read carefully.
  4. They have read Wright carefully, and genuinely disagree with him for what they believe to be solid biblical/theological reasons. This number is sizable, but even his academic peers disagree with him in far more respectful tones than most of the churlish invective I read from those who occupy reasons 1 and 2.

For the record, I do not agree with every position Wright holds. After all, he was a bishop in the Anglican Church, and therefore he approaches Scripture and certain ecclesiastical questions from an entirely different perspective than I do. I especially disagree with him on the interpretation of 1 Corinthians 14 and 1 Timothy 2. But even there I learned something from him.

I oppose both a sycophantic adoration of Wright and a petulant rejection of him. He is one of the most prolific and preeminent scholars writing today, and so his conclusions must be carefully considered. Whether you know you are dealing with Wright or not, chances are some of the arguments you hear being discussed come from his pen. So – that is why I suggest that every minister, as well as every concerned member, needs to read at least some of his works.

Standing Under Scripture

If you have been reading the last few posts (my “Uncertain Inferences” series) you note that I have been illustrating how we can look at a passage of Scripture and deduce, or infer, that something is true when, in fact, it is either not true, or at least the certainty of our inference is indeed “uncertain.” You may disagree with me on one or more of these issues: that is fine – by no means am I claiming infallibility. However, you better have more solid scriptural evidence than I have presented to bolster my case if you want to convince me. I am passionately opposed to perpetuating error just because it happens to be popular.

What all of this boils down to is our approach to Scripture. One of my most favorite professors stressed to his students that we stand under Scripture, we do not stand over it. When we stand under Scripture, we submit to its message, listen to its modes of communication, and seek to obey what it directs. In the 21st century, that means we have to unlearn as much about reading Scripture as we have to learn how to read Scripture.

As just a few examples, consider these: we (and I speak as an American, although much of what I say can be shared by other Western cultures) think linearly. Point B follows point A, and point C follows point B. Time flows in a straight line. Result Y is directly related to cause X. When we read Scripture, we automatically impose that way of thinking on the text. We think that is the way Abraham and Moses and David and Paul and Peter must have thought and acted, because that is the way everyone around us thinks and acts.

Philosophically we are basically Platonists. The world is made up of the ideal and the material. The material is somehow corrupt, whereas the ideal is perfect  – how many times have you heard the phrase “true love?” Our Platonic worldview is especially seen in our view of “heaven.” We have a view of disembodied “spirits” or “souls” flying around on little clouds in some nebulous realm “up there.” We base virtually every decision we make on some form of scientific “truth,” and yet we pray on Sunday mornings for “divine guidance.” These are all grand-children, or step-grand-children, of Plato’s understanding, and we are so immersed in that thought that to think otherwise is to be branded as a heretic.

Yet, when we enter into the very different, and we might even say strange, world of the Bible we see that so much of what we consider to be the only way to view things is NOT the way the biblical writers viewed them. Their world did not always follow a direct cause and effect pattern. Time for them was not always linear – sometimes it was, and sometimes it was cyclical and sometimes it was significantly disjointed. Abraham and Moses and David and Paul and Peter lived in a world where paradox was more common than consistency. And while Jesus and Paul and Peter lived in a world influenced by Plato and Aristotle, their thinking was more in line with Abraham and Moses than with the Athenian philosophers.

Perhaps nowhere in the Bible is this difference in thinking more profound than in the type of literature we call “apocalyptic.” This is the very strange world where beasts live that have seven heads and ten horns, where the sun goes dark and the moon turns red. We, as good 21st century Westerners, read those passages and immediately we think in “literal” terms. We start trying to figure out how ten horns can be divided onto seven heads – we start trying to calculate when solar or lunar eclipses must have occurred to give the biblical writers their “literal” reference. In so doing we utterly, totally, and completely miss the point! By forcing our worldview (literal, linear, and scientific to a fault) onto a mostly Hebraic, and sometimes Persian, and sometimes Egyptian, and sometimes Babylonian, and sometimes Greek, and sometimes Roman worldview, we destroy not only the method, but we destroy the message as well. What we are doing when we do that is we are standing OVER the text, not standing under it.

The problem is that this is the way we have been taught to read the Bible ever since we were very small children. We read a passage, made a modern day application, and moved on. We were never taught about Egyptian or Mesopotamian creation myths, or about Hebrew poetry, or about Zoroastrian dualism because our teachers knew little or nothing about those topics – and they did the best they could understanding that they had not been taught about those subjects. When I was a small child I searched the maps in the back of my Bible for hours, knowing that somewhere in those maps I could find Santa Fe, New Mexico, and my beloved Pecos river. We did not even have a globe in our classroom so that the teacher could show us just how far Bethlehem was from Santa Fe.

Please understand – I am not criticizing my teachers. They did the best they could with what they knew, and I might add that they did a remarkable job with those flannel boards and little sand boxes where the battle of Jericho was fought again and again with striking realism. But I do want to shine a light on a serious problem – what was adequate, and perhaps appropriate, for elementary age children is pathetically inappropriate for grown adults. We must grow beyond flannel boards and sand boxes. As we mature in our understanding we have to learn that the world of Abraham, Moses, David, Paul, Peter and every other biblical writer was vastly different from our own, and if and when we impose our way of looking at reality onto their way of describing their reality, we distort and even misinterpret Scripture.

Genesis is not a scientific textbook. Job is not a guide to astronomy. Revelation is not a road map of the future. Jesus spoke in parables because of, not in spite of, their open ended conclusions. It just seems to me to be the height of arrogance for us to say that we know everything about everything in the Bible when we are separated almost two millennia from the youngest of the biblical writings. We, who claim to be people of the book, must be the most careful and humble when it comes to speaking from that book.

Standing under the Bible means we have to get on our knees, not stand on a soap box. It means that we have to ascend by bending lower.

[Note: this post was edited to better reflect our Platonic worldview.]

Jesus, God, and the Cross [Uncertain Inferences Series]

If you have been following this series of posts, I hope you have noticed something. Most inferences, especially what I have labeled the “uncertain” ones, usually derive from the misinterpretation of one, or maybe two, passages of Scripture. That is particularly true of the inference that Jesus was separated from God on the cross. In my gentle, humble, and (undeniably) correct opinion, that is one of the most egregious, pernicious, and just flat-out wrong inferences that has been made about Jesus’s sacrifice on the cross. In defense of this audacious claim, I present seven (7, what a wonderful, biblical number) pieces of evidence.

  1.  The quote from Jesus on the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me” is a direct quote from Psalm 22:1. The entire point – the only point – of Psalm 22 is that the psalmist is not abandoned, is not forsaken, and indeed has been heard and delivered by his God. If Jesus wanted to quote a passage of Scripture that described his separation from God then he chose a really, really bad example.
  2. The context of Gethsemane and the cross. Consider Matthew 26:36-46, Mark 14:32-42, Luke 22:39-46, John 17:1-26. All the gospels have Jesus in close fellowship with his Father. Notice the seven statements we have recorded of Jesus from the cross: John 19:26 -30, Luke 23:34, 43, 46, Matthew 27:46, Mark 15:35. Of the seven statements, three are specifically related to a time, “about the ninth hour,” or immediately before Jesus died. The last statement recorded in Luke clearly has Jesus in a close relationship with his Father. The quotation in Matthew and Mark (from Psalm 22) occurs at approximately the same time as the other last statements on the cross. Luke and John have Jesus in unity with God at the same time that Matthew and Mark supposedly have them separated. Either Jesus was separated from God, or he was not, but he could not be both at the same time.
  3. Consider Romans 6:1-4, 1 Corinthians 15:1-8, Colossians 1:15-23, Hebrews 2:9-18, 5:7-10, 9:11-10:18, 1 Peter 3:18-22, Revelation 5:9. These passages confirm that it was the death of Jesus which provided salvation. Some passages refer to the “suffering” of Jesus, but in context that suffering always refers to his death. As noted above, the gospel writers agree that Jesus was in unity with God at the point of his death. If God cannot be in the presence of sin (a false doctrine*, but I digress) then that means Jesus absolved our sins before his death – which means that Jesus’s death was totally unnecessary! How many really want to argue that point?
  4. The biblical doctrine of the unity of God and Jesus. Read Deuteronomy 6:4, John 1:1ff, 4:26, 8:24, 8:58, 9:35-37, 13:19, 17:1-26, Colossians 1:15-23. To say that Jesus was separated from God on the cross means that God was separated from God, the Son separated from the Father. God is indivisible. God and Jesus are indivisible. The supposed separation is an essential impossibility. To argue that Jesus and God were separated on the cross is to claim that Jesus was of a different essence than God. Thus, Jesus was only a mere human at some point on the cross. We are walking in tall cotton here, but does anyone really want to argue that a mere human died to save us from our sins?
  5. The chronology of the crucifixion simply does not allow for a separation. It is impossible to decipher exactly when Jesus could have been separated, and when he was reunited with his Father. If he was separated, it had to be for a very brief period of time after he was nailed to the cross and before he died. As noted above, this also bifurcates the suffering of Jesus from his death, something the gospels, and the later epistles, refuse to do.
  6. No other New Testament text teaches, suggests, implies, or even hints that Jesus was separated from God on the cross. You would think as passionately as this ghastly teaching is promoted today that there would be at least one reference in the New Testament of its truth. But – you just cannot find any reference to such a thought.
  7. The voice of history is unequivocal – to separate God from Jesus means two different essences, two different natures, of God and Jesus. This teaching has been rejected as heretical from the earliest centuries down to the modern day. The only groups who want to teach this error are those who want to minimize the role of Jesus, or those who want to elevate some other human to the level of Jesus.

The sum of the matter – you just cannot hold to the idea that Jesus and God were separated on the cross. It is an incorrect inference – and I believe a dangerous one – from one verse of a Psalm. No other teaching of Scripture supports the idea, and multiple passages refute it. It is illogical in the extreme – you just cannot fit a separation into the chronology of the crucifixion.

Why do we go to such lengths to believe and promote such obvious false teachings? Why, in the face of such overwhelming evidence to the contrary, do we refuse to let go of such unscriptural notions?

I have a better idea. Instead of letting our emotions dictate what we think must have happened that day on the hill of crucifixion, let’s let the inspired authors of the Bible tell us what actually did happen, and then we can safely attach any legitimate applications at that point.

*The idea that God had to separate himself from Jesus, or “abandon” Jesus is inextricably connected to the equally false idea that God cannot be in the presence of sin. Since Jesus bore our sins on the cross, God had to reject him. It is suggested that the Bible supports this claim, but the only passage that even comes close to this idea is Habakkuk 1:13 – which is a complaint from the prophet Habakkuk that God is too good to do what he has told Habakkuk he will do. As the entire book makes clear, Habakkuk is dead wrong, and like Jonah, needs a little correction. Note how many times from Genesis to Revelation is it said that God saw, or remembered, or took note, of man’s sin. Note the times that God “dwelt” or “walked” on this earth, rubbing shoulders with sinful men. Note that Satan, the accuser of mankind, had a conversation with God! (Job 1, 2) Note finally that this is exactly what Jesus did for his entire ministry! I would agree that sin cannot be in the presence of God for long: it is burned up, annihilated, destroyed, or it is purified, atoned for,  covered up, forgiven – choose your verb. But the claim that God cannot be in the presence of sin, and therefore had to abandon Jesus, is simply a specious argument! It is compounding one erroneous inference to support another one. Yet, sadly, it is believed by countless Christians who have been duped so that an author can sell a few more books, or a preacher gets invited to a few more conferences.

Those Mysterious “Rolling” Sins [Uncertain Inferences Series]

When we examine inferences made from Scripture, whether ours or those of others, we can note that some are sound and legitimate, some are kind of squishy, although not necessarily wrong or dangerous, and some are just flat out wrong. When we make inaccurate inferences it is either due to simple ignorance (we are not aware of other passages that bear on the subject we are discussing, or we misinterpret the verses we use to defend our inference) or due to a blatant disregard for opposing Scriptures in an effort to make our inference unassailable, or “necessary.” The results can be anything from amusing to dangerous. Regardless, an incorrect inference is incorrect, and I do not believe anyone wants to promote falsehood.

One common inference is based on Hebrews 10:4, “For it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins.” From this verse, taken by itself and entirely out of context, it would appear that no one was ever forgiven of their sins by the sacrifice of any animal. Now, this misunderstanding could be rectified if 10:4 was read in the context of 9:13-14, and 9:22. But the idea that the sins of the Israelites were not forgiven until the death of Christ became an entrenched teaching – and to explain it the idea of the sins of the Israelites being “rolled forward” was promoted. [cue the theme to “Rawhide” here, “Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’, keep those doggies rollin’, rawhide!] First let’s examine the teaching of the forgiveness of the sins of the Israelites under the Mosaic covenant:

The priest shall make atonement for them, and they shall be forgiven.

Thus the priest shall make atonement on his behalf for his sin, and he shall be forgiven.

Thus the priest shall make atonement on your behalf, and you shall be forgiven.

Thus the priest shall make atonement on your behalf for the sin that you have committed, and you shall be forgiven.

You shall confess the sin that you have committed . . . and the priest shall make atonement on your behalf for your sin.

Thus the priest shall make atonement on your behalf for the sin that you have committed, and you shall be forgiven.

Thus the priest shall make atonement . . . and you shall be forgiven.

The priest shall make atonement on your behalf with the ram of the guilt offering, and you shall be forgiven.

You shall repay the principal amount and shall add one-fifth to it . . . The priest shall make atonement on your behalf before the LORD, and you shall be forgiven for any of the things that one may do and incur guilt thereby.

(Leviticus 4:20, 26, 31, 35; 5:5-6, 10, 13, 16, 18; 6:5-7, NRSV; See also the chapter on the Day of Atonement, chapter 16)

Color me silly here, but I just do not understand how anyone can read these passages and come up with the conclusion that the sins of the Israelites were not forgiven at the time that they went to the priest, confessed their sins, and provided the appropriate sin offering. These passages are in perfect agreement with Hebrews 9:13-14.

Now, let’s examine the passages that teach that the sins of the Israelites were “rolled forward.”

[ . . . ]

That was fun, wasn’t it?

You see, someone, or a bunch of someones, wanted to emphasize the importance of the sacrifice Christ made on the cross. Who would want to minimize it? So, taking Hebrews 10:4 as their proof-text, they had to “explain” how the sins of the Israelites could be forgiven by Jesus. This person, or persons, came up with the idea that these sins were “rolled forward” to the day of the crucifixion. There is no passage that teaches such an idea, and even Hebrews 10:4 does not teach such an idea. Never-the-less, the belief has become as undeniable for some people as the nose on their face.

I do not believe there is any profound ethic or behavior that would result from a misunderstanding of Hebrews 10:4. But the inference that the Israelites were NOT forgiven, when God repeatedly and emphatically told them that they WOULD BE forgiven, is to twist, and even deny, Scripture. If you were able to ask a faithful Israelite who was leaving their sacrifice if they had been forgiven of their sins, they would have looked at you as if you were crazy. Of course they had been forgiven. They had been promised the forgiveness of their sin, they believed in the promise of God, they had obediently followed the command of God – why would they think they had been denied that which was promised?

Let’s be blunt here. The idea that what was effective for the Israelites is somehow effective for us is just plain falsehood. The author of the book of Hebrews makes that point in a number of ways. Christ’s sacrifice is superior to the Mosaic sacrifices as the sun is superior to my little flashlight. The Mosaic code provided for the temporary, (the Hebrew writer called it “fleshly” forgiveness), while Jesus provided for “once-for-all” (forgiveness of the conscience) forgiveness. The two are profoundly different in the mind of the author of the letter to the Hebrews, and we should not try to put them back together.

The idea that the sins of the Israelites were “rolled forward” is certainly a possible deduction from Hebrews 10:4; it has been taught and defended with the greatest of fervor. But, is it a correct inference or deduction? I do not believe it is, and I am convinced that the book of Leviticus and even Hebrews 9:13, 14, and 22 all teach quite clearly that while the forgiveness under the Mosaic system was temporary, and therefore imperfect, it was none-the-less effective for that covenant.

I am profoundly thankful that we have the covenant established by Christ and sealed with his sacrifice on the cross to trust for our salvation. As the writer to the Hebrew Christians encouraged, let us not trivialize nor forsake that great sacrifice!

The “Age of Accountability” [Uncertain Inferences Series]

Logic and illogic have a certain symbiotic relationship. Often we think very carefully and long about something, and then act in such a way that is laughably illogical. Yet, when confronted with our illogical behavior, we argue that it was the most logical thing to do that we could possibly imagine.

I think of that conundrum when I ponder one of the most difficult questions a minister is ever asked – how old should a person be before he or she is baptized? I guess I should say this is only a difficult question for a minister who serves a church that rejects infant baptism. A “pedo-baptist” does not have to worry about that question – just bring the infant to the font whenever all the family can be together. But for “credo-baptists” (those who withhold baptism until there is a measure of faith), the question gets significantly more sticky.

The answer for many “credo-baptists” is, “when the person has reached the age of accountability.” That answer, I am becoming more and more convinced, is as clear as mud. It really does not solve any question, and even raises more, at least in my mind.

First, let me say that it does offer some form of assurance – we withhold baptism until a person is “accountable” for either their sins or their confession of faith. But which is it? When does a person become “accountable” for their sin? Or, when does a person really become “accountable” for their confession of faith? If we answer with a specific “age,” then it appears to me that we have answered the question for everyone, for all time and eternity. Let’s just put an age here – say, 12 or 16, or 20 or even 30. Before that age no accountability, after that age, accountability.

But that is not how we work the game. We immediately shift to the person’s (and I suggest here it is usually a young person) state of mind. So, we say age of accountability, but we invariably end up arguing level of maturity. Now here is where it really gets interesting for me.

As a culture we are in the process of raising the age of assumed maturity, while in many churches we are in the process of lowering it – even to the point of virtually erasing it. Consider the following:

  • The age of consent for consensual sex is no lower, and often above, age 16.
  • Most states require drivers to have reached their 16th birthday before unrestricted driving privileges are granted, some even older.
  • The minimum age for voting is 18. This is also the age for a person to volunteer for the armed services without parental permission.
  • The minimum age to legally purchase and consume alcohol in most jurisdictions is 21.
  • Many jurisdictions will not impose the maximum penalty for certain crimes committed by those under 18 because, and underline this, the brain of a juvenile is simply not capable of understanding the consequences of their actions.

And, yet, preachers are routinely baptizing children as young as 8 or 7 or even 6 because “they are just so mature.”

Am I the only one who doesn’t get this?

Would we allow such a “mature” child to make his or her decisions regarding sexual activity? Would we give allow such a child to vote? Would we hand them the keys to our new SUV? Would we give them a $20 bill and tell them to go buy some suds for their birthday party? Would we incarcerate a 10 year old in an adult correctional facility if they had a pound of marijuana they were attempting to sell?

The answer to any of these questions is an incredulous NO! We recognize that an 8 or 7  or 6 year old could never be expected to make such decisions – that is why they are safely protected in our homes by (at least supposedly) mature adults.

But we give a child a Bible and a chart of little arrows or a chain reference of the “gospel plan of salvation” and if they can answer a few perfunctory questions we whisk them off to the church and dunk them in the baptistry as fast as we can (we dare not allow them to die in-between the decision and the dunking!)

Is it possible to teach that we are stressing the importance of baptism when in reality we are doing everything in our power to minimize it?

One of the most difficult conversations I have had the misfortune of having is the one where an adult comes to me and tells me that they do not believe their baptism was “effective.” They were baptized, they know, but have come to recognize that the real motivation for their baptism was peer pressure (girlfriends can be really effective preachers!), parental pressure (dad really wanted to be an elder!) or my favorite – communion pressure (who doesn’t want to have crackers and grape juice at half-time!) It is an agonizing question. Six months or so earlier there was no doubt, but now the questions and the fear are palpable. If I answer, “you need to be baptized” I am invalidating what scores of people would have argued was certifiable rock solid truth – a young person was a baptized believer because he/she answered the questions correctly and said the right words. If I tell the person “no, you have no need to be baptized” I am invalidating their fears and doubts, thus calling into question the very maturity they were supposed to have demonstrated at their baptism. So, I never answer the question – I make them answer it. Almost always the person ends up saying, “In truth I was never baptized because of my faith and to acknowledge my sins, and I want to make that confession now.”

I want to add here that I believe every Christian at some point questions the reason why they were baptized. I know I have – and it troubles me. I have talked to scores of Christians who have confessed the same fear. We cannot always dwell on the peak of Mt. Assurance. My wife taught me a very solid practice to share with those I baptize – immediately go home and write a letter to yourself, detailing what, and why, and when you decided to become a Christian. Then, when these doubts surface, you can read your letter to yourself and decide anew whether the decision was one of faith – or of surrendering to some ghastly emotional blackmail. I wish I had that advice when I made the decision. At my age, it is really hard to crawl back into my struggling, adolescent mind.

Never-the-less, I have come to regard the issue of the “age of accountability” (a profoundly uncertain inference) as a red herring. There just is no such animal in the Bible. A person should be baptized when he or she can act with enough maturity that they, as well as the entire believing community, can be assured that they are aware of the seriousness of the commitment of baptism, and that there are no other illegitimate pressures being placed on their decision.

I must add here that I wish a plague of biblical proportions be inflicted on every summer Bible camp and every minister that views “camp conversions” as anything other than group hysteria. Let’s see – let’s place a bunch of hormonally driven, sleep deprived pre-teens in a remote destination and in an exceedingly artificial situation and then preach the fire of hell so hot it singes their eyebrows and see what happens. What could possibly go wrong?

Answering a few academic questions doesn’t cut it. Being able to draw a little diagram with a few arrows and some squiggly lines doesn’t cut it. Being cut to the heart because of a reality of separation from God does count.  Counting the cost of surrendering our life to Christ does count. We are not told that anyone in the New Testament was baptized for any other reason. We should not be guilty of promoting anything less.

If we teach that the baptism of an infant is without meaning, for heaven’s sake let’s stop baptizing infants!

Reading the Bible Through Fresh Eyes

I am experiencing some wonderful things in my Bible reading this year, and as a result I believe I am doing some of the best work of my life in terms of Bible study. If you have seen my daily Bible reading plan, you know that I try to read the Bible through twice every year. I’ve been doing this for a number of years, but this year just seems to be different.

This year I am trying to approach my daily Bible reading through what I have come to call “fresh” eyes. Some people speak of reading the Bible “as if they have never read it before,” but that is really impossible. Our brains just do not work like that. Once we have read something, especially if we have spent any time studying it, our initial conclusions will always affect our subsequent reading. But, I think it is possible to hold those first thoughts and conclusions and still approach the text through eyes that are “fresh” (or perhaps “refreshed” might be the better term.) We do not seek to erase those prior conclusions; rather, we hold them close, but realizing their presence, we read the text again, looking to see if those first (and often powerful) impressions are indeed the most beneficial.

Anyway, this has been a particularly fruitful couple of weeks. I will illustrate with two examples, one from each Testament.

I am teaching the book of Revelation again, so I have been reading and thinking about that great book in preparation for my classes. So, as I was in the book of Genesis for my daily Bible reading I was struck by the phrases in Genesis 10:5, 20, and 31. These verses all speak of the sons of Noah, their sons, and in particular their lands, languages, clans and nations. A light bulb went off in my mind, “Boing!” (My light bulbs go “boing” when they light up). That is remarkably similar to John’s language in the book of Revelation as he speaks of “tribe, language, people and nation” (see 5:9; 7:9; 11:9; 13:7; 10:11; 14:6 and 17:15). I have an idea about why John is using that phraseology, but never mind. Back to Genesis, I immediately thought, “wait, up until the confusion of languages at Babel there was only one human language.” Bingo! Chapter 11 describes the confusion of languages at Babel. You see, the author of Genesis (Moses in my way of thinking) introduces some events, and then backs up to explain in greater detail how, and sometimes why, those events occurred. Now, I have studied Genesis academically and read it dozens of times, yet this year for some reason this passage jumped out at me (a lot of it had to do with my preparation for the book of Revelation, I admit).

Could it be, in fact is it not highly probable, that Moses does exactly the same thing with the creation narrative in chapters 1 and 2? Even a cursory reading shows some differences in the two accounts. I know many try to “harmonize” the two chapters, but to me that seems to be Scripture twisting in the worst possible way. Why not allow Moses’s style to lead us to accept the two chapters as different, but equally instructive, ways to understand God’s creation? Why do we have to make them the same?

Hence, I turn to the New Testament. On Sunday nights I am teaching the gospel of John. This past week we studied chapter 12. John says that “six days before the Passover” Jesus went to Bethany where a feast was provided, and Mary anointed his feet with a costly perfume. A quick check of Matthew and Mark, however, reveals that this same event took place two days before the Passover, and that the unnamed woman anoints his head. (Matthew 26:1-13; Mark 14:1-9). Now, there are some ways to attempt to “harmonize” the accounts. You could say that John is reporting that Jesus went to Bethany six days before the Passover, but is not specifically saying the feast took place six days before the Passover. That works until you get to v. 12, when John describes the triumphal entry on “the next day.” If you use Matthew’s and Mark’s chronology, that would place the “triumphal entry” the day before the Passover (unless, of course, you want to argue for more than one “triumphal entry.”) Another attempt to harmonize the accounts is to suggest there were two feasts four days apart, with two women basically doing the same anointing, with the same response by the apostles, and with the same rebuke by Jesus. Possible? Yes; but realistically? Would not the apostles recognize the value of the second anointing and praise the sacrifice?

Or, is John trying to tell us something different using this story? John appears to be using chronological markers (days, feasts) in a different way than what we expect chronological markers to be used. Once again, because of my daily Bible reading, I was drawn back to Genesis. What happened on the sixth day of creation? It was on the sixth day that God finished his work. What is the last statement of Jesus on the cross in the gospel of John? “It is finished.” (John 19:30) Jesus rested on the seventh day, just as God rested on the seventh day of creation. Jesus’s resurrection begins a new week, “on the first day of the week” Mary went to the tomb, while it was still dark.

I am not suggesting that this is the only way to read John 12, nor is it necessarily the best way to read John 12. I am suggesting it is a possible way to understand John 12, and one that opens fresh ways to understand the entire gospel (why, for example, John places the cleansing of the temple early in the ministry of Jesus, while the synoptics place it in the final week of Jesus’s life).

You see, if we are desperate to make the gospel accounts “harmonize,” we are faced with a discrepancy – six days or two days before the Passover, anointing the feet or the head. Some differences in parallel passages can be easily harmonized. With others it appears we have to resort to using crow-bars and a can of axle grease to make the separate accounts “agree” with each other.

I have a better solution: let’s let the text speak exactly as the author intended, not as we think the author should have intended based on some other text we find in the Bible. That means occasionally we have to deal with some ambiguity, as there are passages where we cannot crawl into the author’s mind and know for certain what he intended.

As I said, we cannot read the Bible every time “as if we had never read it before.” But we can read it through fresh eyes – eyes open to discover new truths, and to re-discover new light in old truths. We need to read the Bible expectantly, not with the intent to justify our previous conclusions, but to challenge us and to draw us closer to the one who gave it to us in the first place.

What an amazing book – and what an amazing God who gave it to us!